Emily’s heart rate quickened as Ryan stood next to her. He covered her hand with his and stirred the sauce, his mouth close to her ear.

“I’m hungry.”

She didn’t dare look at him. “The food won’t be long.”

“That isn’t going to help me.” His voice shimmered with wry humor.

The urge to kiss him was almost unbearable, and she wondered how she was going to make it through an evening without being allowed to touch him.

“Ryan?” Lizzy’s voice came from under the table, making them both jump.

He kept his eyes on Emily’s face. “Yeah?”

“You should hug Emily, too, in case she’s scared.”

“Oh!” Flustered, Emily almost dropped the spoon. “There isn’t any need—”

“Great idea.” Ryan removed the spoon from her hand, slid his arm around her and pulled her against him. “Are you scared, Emily?”

She placed her hand on his chest, intending to make a flippant remark and push him away, but she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her palm, and instead of pulling back she curved her hand up to his shoulder.

“I’m not afraid of storms,” she said quietly.

“But you’re afraid of other things.” His voice was low, and she knew this conversation was no longer for Lizzy’s benefit.

She was afraid. Not of the storm and not of him, but of her own feelings.

His cheek brushed against her hair, and she could feel the warmth of his hand low on her spine. She was pressed against thick, hard masculine pressure, and desire blurred her vision and her thoughts. It was obvious that his frustration matched hers. She wanted his mouth on hers so badly she almost dragged his head to hers right there and then.

The effort of holding back simply increased the erotic intensity of the moment.

Every sense was exaggerated. She could hear the relentless patter of rain on the roof and the soft bubbling of the sauce on the stove. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and the slow stroke of his fingers on her spine.

His hand cupped her cheek, and when she looked into his eyes she saw heat and raw desire.

She’d never wanted anything or anyone as badly as she wanted him.

Her stomach tightened.

His mouth was so close to hers he was almost touching her.

“Emily?” Lizzy’s voice came from under the table where she was still playing with Cocoa. “I can smell burning.”

The moment was broken.

They rescued the sauce, and later, much later, after a supper of mac and cheese followed by blueberry pie, Emily tucked Lizzy into bed.

The thunder had moved on, leaving only the rain, and Emily flicked on the tiny lamp by Lizzy’s bed. “I’m going to leave the door open, so if you want me you just have to call out.”

“Will you be downstairs?”